


lover, you should've come over

by jayspincastle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Post James and Lily's Death, Sirius Black in Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayspincastle/pseuds/jayspincastle
Summary: It wasn’t meant to end like this. He was supposed to die for the Order, alone, off on some dangerous mission, away from the few people he held close. He had no one who really depended on him. In his mind, he had always been the one who was supposed to die.November 1981 - Remus does some thinking and says his final goodbye.





	lover, you should've come over

**Author's Note:**

> A small drabble I found in my archives. Couldn't be bothered changing anything besides some grammar, but I hope someone out there will like it.

The life the Marauders chose to lead did not offer many ways out. Fighting Voldemort tended to see one either dead or completely and utterly alone. Unfortunately for Remus Lupin, who had prepared himself for the eventuality of death ever since he could comprehend the concept, it seemed like the universe wanted to punish him more than it already had.

 

It wasn’t meant to end like this. He was supposed to die for the Order, alone, off on some dangerous mission, away from the few people he held close. He had no one who really depended on him. In his mind, he had always been the one who was supposed to die.

 

Not James and Lily, who had a one-year-old baby boy who needed to be raised.

 

Not Peter, who had an ailing mother who depended on him to survive.

 

Not Sirius.

 

Granted, Sirius wasn’t dead. But the brash idiot had gone and been the traitor that they had been looking for. He just _had_ to be the traitor, the fucking _traitor._ It would’ve been so much easier if Remus just known all along, but life never seems to let him down easily. No matter how much ‘surveillance’ he had done on the man, never had he really entertained the idea that it could’ve been Sirius.

 

He knew that they all thought it was him, how the Dark Lord had managed to convince him to switch loyalties based on his lycanthropy, but never had he considered, even _once_ , handing over the people who had given him a family and shown him love all through his teenage years that he had never felt before.

 

James Potter, the boy who on the first trip on the Hogwarts Express immediately saw his shy and nervous exterior and taken him in without a second thought, deciding that they were going to be best friends for the _rest of their lives_ (he had followed through with that promise too), before Remus had even had a chance to get a single word out.

 

Lily Evans, the girl who showed Remus all the kindness in the world, comforting him whenever he felt insecure or upset, or just _tired_ , always being a constantly warm presence amidst the chaos of a life he led, always being ready to yell at someone to protect _her_ Remus, who didn’t really need the protection, but appreciated the thought anyway.

 

Peter Pettigrew, the boy who accompanied Remus for seven years, always there to listen when he had to release his anger and frustrations, quiet and steady, sitting in the common room or in the library, always happy to study together or just sit and enjoy each other’s calming presence.

 

Sirius Black, the boy he loved.

 

He didn’t know how they could have even considered him to be the traitor when they had known the extent of his feelings towards Sirius. Ever since the moment he first laid eyes on the feisty young boy with long, messy hair, he had been completely and utterly in love him.

 

It just wasn’t fair, how he could be so devoted to one man, when the same man can just so easily turn around and throw years of love and loyalty out the window, all in order for what? For the ‘eternal glory’ that the Dark Lord promised his followers? For acceptance from his blood family, the family he swore to never return to?

 

None of it made sense. Then again, it was war, and nothing makes sense in war.

 

That night, he had been so sure that Sirius was rushing to Godric’s Hollow to avenge his best friends as soon as they heard of the attack. If only he had known of his true intentions (No, he _should have_ known. Who else was as close to Sirius as he was?) maybe he would not have let Sirius leave without him. Then at least Peter would have been spared. Maybe he could have talked some sense into the man, remind him that his true family was not with his blood but with the Marauders.

 

All these shoulds, coulds, woulds. It was no use now. James, Lily and Peter were dead and Sirius was in Azkaban.

 

With a heaving sigh, Remus Lupin clicked the latch on his tattered briefcase and stood up to leave the one room apartment he had once shared with Sirius for the last time.

 

Everything that he should have been feeling was null. He felt void of emotion.

 

He swept his eyes over the old creaky bed he and Sirius would squeeze onto during the cold winter nights, huddled under mountains of scratchy blankets and finding comfort in each other’s arms when they couldn’t find comfort anywhere else. He should’ve been feeling anger, even resentment, but he couldn’t find it in him to hate the charismatic man who still held complete ownership over his heart. The awkward almost-flirting of their early years, then actual flirting, followed by years of a clandestine relationship that still lit a spark of youthful excitement in his heart when he thought about it had sealed their fate together.

 

Once, he had dared to dream that _maybe_ they could survive this war. That _maybe_ they could live the rest of their lives together. Yet just as soon as he had dared to dream, life turned around and reminded him of the sullen reality that he was unable to escape.

 

The pillow they had once shared was stripped bare along with the rest of bed, and the blankets neatly folded at the end of the bed. The clothes he couldn’t fit in his suitcase were sitting in the trash outside. Sirius’s things had all been packed away and secretly transported back to his room in 12 Grimmauld Place by Remus. Any remaining food left in the cupboards were packed in his bag – he did not know how he was going to find or pay for food now. The two thin metal chairs that came with the apartment looked just as grey and uninviting as the day he moved in. Their frames were cold to the touch, as if Sirius took with him the energy and life that had made every bad thing about the tacky room seem like the finest luxury one could afford.

 

Life with Sirius was scratching the wood on the front door around the keyhole with the key as he struggled to unlock the door while being attacked with kisses and two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, then just giving up and using the _alohomora_ charm.

It was flinging some of the porridge they ate every morning into Sirius’s hair when he made a bad joke, and then helping him wash it out before leaving for an Order meeting.

It was sitting at the chairs with beers and chocolate, quietly winding down and appreciating each other’s presence after a dangerous mission where one of them had almost died.

It was Sirius treating all his wounds after a particularly bad full moon, and then sitting in the bath together as Remus dozed off to Sirius combing his fingers through his hair.

It was wearing off the paint on the wall behind the bed frame as their passion overrode any sense of secrecy they should've had.

It was curling up together, tangled in each other’s limbs, breathing in the musk of the man who enveloped him, who intoxicated him, who loved him.

 

Once, he couldn’t have imagined a life without Sirius. Now he didn’t have to.

 

With the same heaviness that cloaked him when he first read about Sirius’s arrest in the Prophet, Remus turned the handle on the door for the last time, stepping out into the nothingness he felt akin to, without casting a single glance behind him.


End file.
